Shadow of the Bat
by DCgirl
Summary: A/N: Anyone want me to update this? Drop me a line then. When one of their own goes missing, can the Birds of Prey find him before it's to late?
1. Default Chapter

With one of their own kidnapped, can the Birds of Prey find him before it's too late?

PROLOGUE: 

The screams from the playground carried across the blacktop, children ran in every direction chasing imaginary villains or playing tag. Standing against the chainlink fence, the slim figure took a deep drag from the cigarette in his mouth. Finally he caught a glimpse of his target. Looking from the picture, and then back to the live, fast moving 9 year old in it's likeness, he let out a breathe of smoke. There in the midst of a kickball game was the Grayson kid, with raven black hair blowing in the cold winds of early spring. 

The ball shot past the outfielder and rolled up against the fence. Laughing as he called to his friends the boy jogged over to retrieve the errant ball. The telltale mismatched eyes, one blue and one green, was all the confirmation the man needed. And he was gone. A few moments later, one of the boys that had been playing noticed an empty swing by the fence, his eyes drifted around searching for his friend, but James was gone.

DISCLAIMER: I own only the characters you don't' recognize (unless you read the previous stories i wrote in which case James and Alex are mine) DC comics and Time Warner owns them. Like everything else. 

CHAPTER 1: Searching for Jymmy Grayson

Dick barely noticed the flashing lights from the row of police cars parked in front of the elementary school's playground. He strode right past the police barricade his eyes scanning the crowd for detective in charge. Eyeing what looked like a plainclothes detective standing near an older man in a trench coat, he waded through the throng of officers, who barely gave him a second look despite the differences in Bludhaven and Gotham police uniforms. 

If he was relieved to see Jim Gordon, retired from the GCPD, at the scene he didn't show it. His thoughts were centered on the disappearance of his son. He was however a little surprised that Jim got there so quickly. Some corner of Dicks mind berated him, of course Jim would get there before he did. After all Jim lived in Gotham and didn't have a 30 minute drive (even with the sirens) from the 'Haven.

"What happened?" Straight and to the point. No time for formalities and to hell with niceties. Someone had taken his son, and that someone was going to pay. Dearly. 

The detective looked up, expecting to be dealing with a distraught parent. He'd been hoping he wouldn't have to deal with them right away. His hopes dimmed when Jim Gordon showed up and stated, very matter of factly, that if his grandson wasn't found soon heads were going to roll. His hopes practically fled in the opposite direction when he saw who the father was. Officer Richard Grayson. Adopted son of Gotham's favorite son, Bruce Wayne. This day was rapidly going from bad to VERY bad.

"Ah. Officer Grayson. I'm Detective Alex Morris. I'll be handling your son's case." Alex held his hand out to greet the other man.

Dick looked over Morris for a moment as if sizing up his capabilities and competence at a case of this magnitude. Of course he and the rest of the Clan would be working on the case as well and he highly doubted if the police force would be the ones to find James, but he saw nothing in the detectives eyes except a tinge of darkness. Sorrow he realized. 'He's worked this beat before, heard this story too many times usually with the same ending' Dick thought. It won't end the same this time, he promised. Not my son. Not my James. He shook the detective's hand as he spoke a little softer this time, "Detective Morris." 

Jim couldn't help looking at his son-in-law with a slight touch of pride, despite the circumstances. His daughter had chosen a fine young man to marry, a man of good judgment and character. Clearing his throat a little, he said, "Dick, Morris here was just telling me that they took witness statements from all the children and teachers that were on the playground. Apparently the last place anyone saw him was over by the link fence where he was going to retrieve the ball. It's still over there. Some of the children remember seeing a man by the fence. No one saw him leave."

Morris saw his chance and jumped in here. "No one saw James leave either. With or without the man. They said one minute he was there, the next....gone."

Dick was already shaking his head, "I know my son, Jymmy wouldn't leave school by himself, and he wouldn't leave voluntarily with someone he didn't know." Even as he spoke, he was already heading over towards the fence, ducking under the crime scene ribbons. His heart tightened even as he said the word 'voluntarily'. Jymmy was smart and knew many forms of self defense, courtesy of his family. It was highly doubtful that Jymmy could be physically removed by anyone outside the family...if he were conscious. Or alive.

"That's what some of the teachers were insisting. A few of the kids too." Morris followed unaware of the silent shudder that went through Dicks body. Reaching the part of the fence where the ball rested, Morris put his hands in his pockets in an almost nonchalant way. He and his men had gone over this place with a fine-toothed comb. But he understood the need for a parent to do something. Anything.

Dick almost didn't even notice Morris anymore, he was slipping into his finely tuned vigilante detective state, his eyes sweeping over the grass and blacktop edge for anything out of place. Out of the corner of his eye something caught his attention. Kneeling down in the grass he reached out and brushed away some grass and small twigs from beside the fence. A cigarette. "Last time I checked, Bristol Elementary didn't have a drug problem."

Morris walked over and looked down at the new piece of evidence, "That could have been thrown there by anyone walking by on the sidewalks." He pointed out reasonably. 

"Oh not everybody." Dick pointed to the butt in question. "This particular type of brand is only available in the Mediterranean. It's not even legal here." Without waiting for a reply he reached into his BHPD jacket for a cell phone. Dialing a number he waited till a familiar, though understandably stressed voice answered. "Hey, it's me. I need a favor, If you could find out the names of all Mediterranean cigarette brands not legal in the U.S." He listened to the other end for a few moments more, aware that Morris was watching as a kind of impressed audience. "Uh huh. Will do. Thanks." He hung up and turned his attention back to the detective. 

"Friend of yours?"

"Yeah. Friend with connections."

"Ah. Hacker?"

"Something like that." Dick was unwilling to elaborate any more on that point so he decided to change the subject. "Do we have a sketch composite from the witness's?"

Alex had to hand it to Grayson. He was the most together parent he'd ever seen. He had a feeling though, that might wear off when the leads ran out. "Uh-yeah. He's tall, slim build--"

"...with straw colored hair and was last seen wearing sun glasses. From the way the kids described him I'd say he's a sailor of some type." Dick finished giving the description Morris had given him 20 minutes ago. 

Barbara Grayson stared impassively at the screen before her as she typed away on the keyboard. Her eyes scanned back and forth through the pages as one hit after another came up on the internet, most of them incorrect. "All right, I'll search the harbor records and see if any ships of Mediterranean origin have come in, in the last few days."

"All right, me and the others are going down to the docks tonight to do a little search of our own." 

"I'll let you know as soon as I find anything. Be careful Dick." Barbara was just starting to switch to full Oracle mode when she heard her husbands softly whispered, 'I love you Babs.' She closed her eyes tightly for a moment. She didn't dare cry. If she started she wasn't all that certain she could stop. "I love you too Dick. Good luck." She cut the signal then. For a long moment she just remained motionless. Her arm propped up on the desk, as she rested her forehead on her palm. Her son was only nine. Nine years old. HER son. Far from helpless, but still very young. 

She returned to her work with a renewed vengeance. She would find her son if she had to search the ends of the earth. And when she did, Heaven help whoever took him. Opening a channel, to her correspondent halfway around the world, she spoke grimly, "Dinah...we have a situation you need to know about."


	2. Converging Shadows

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the DC characters, I just like to pretend I do. However the creation of James and Haley is all mine...for better or for worse.  
  
CHAPTER TWO—Converging Shadows  
  
James woke with a start. The world was dark. Even after he opened his eyes it was still dark.  
  
Blindfolded he realized. Beneath him, he could feel the coldness of metal creeping through his clothes, where he lay on his side.  
  
There was a sudden, unsteady jarring motion, and Jymmy slid across the cast iron floor. Without his sight he tried to throw his arms in front to catch himself, but found as he hit a hard wall, that his hands were bound behind his back.  
  
He gave a stifled groan and frowned. Gagged too. Great. The floor beneath him kept rocking back and forth a little, not as strongly as before. A boat. He was on a boat of some type. Judging from the lack of warmth, and the metal casting in the place of wood flooring, he was in the hold of a commercial ship. This was going to be interesting.  
  
Rolling over so that his face wasn't resting against what he now realized was a bulkhead, he wriggled around a little bit. He was just starting to work his way through the bindings when he heard a door clang open. He tensed, his motions frozen for a moment as footsteps sounded on the floor near his head.  
  
Soft hands caressed his face and he shuddered trying to draw away from it. A woman's voice crooned to him, "It's all right James. I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
The residual side effect of the chloroform had blanketed Jymmy's mind in a hazy fog. That voice now broke through it and Jymmy was alert and on edge. Something about this woman made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He continued to try to move away from her touch.  
  
There was a slight tsking sound and her fingers were running through his hair. "Oh James, I'm not going to hurt you."  
  
Jymmy somehow doubted that.  
  
"Would it help if I took the blindfold off?"  
  
Well, he couldn't really say no to that. The blindfold WAS a hindrance, so he nodded hesitantly.  
  
Nimble fingers worked the knots behind his head and soon the blindfold fell away, leaving him to blink rapidly as his vision came into focus.  
  
Kneeling beside him was a woman of about forty, with long brown hair and ice blue eyes. "There, isn't that better?" She was saying.  
  
James was inclined to agree, now that he could see what he was dealing with, so he nodded again.  
  
"Don't think about escaping. There's no where to go, no one to help you." Standing she smiled down at the boy, again something in that smile made Jymmy's instincts scream at him, telling him to get away. "We'll be there soon James. Just sit tight."  
  
'Be there soon'? Where were they going? What was this woman talking about?  
  
The woman turned on her heel and walked out of the room. The door shut with a loud clang leaving James to sit there, still gagged and bound, wondering just what exactly he'd woken up to.  
  
* *  
*  
  
Later that night three dark silhouettes made their way across the docks of Gotham Harbor. A smaller dark form approached the others, none of which were under six feet tall, from the opposite direction. "Not there."  
  
The tallest, broadest figure made a single gesture with his hand, beckoning to the others. "No, but take a look at this." The dark figures came beside him on the docks. A black glove disappeared behind a cape for a moment, then returned to the center of the group, holding something small and white. Gauze. "Smell that?"  
  
Nightwing nodded his head grimly. "Chloroform."  
  
The Batman nodded, and returned the gauze to one of the many compartments in his tool belts for further analysis later.  
  
The third male figure, slightly taller than Nightwing, but slimmer in fame and build spoke up, voicing the thought they were all thinking but unable to say, "That means Jymmy's most likely unconscious, but alive. Otherwise why go to the trouble of kidnapping him?"  
  
Nightwing was about to answer when they heard a click on their comlinks and Oracle's voice piped through. "O.K. Birds and Bats, I found two ships of Mediterranean origin that's been in port in long enough to fit our time schedule. One of them's departed already, yesterday afternoon as a matter of fact. The other one's still in port according to the harbor master's log. The S.S. POISEIDON."  
  
"We'll split up." said Nightwing. "Batman and I'll take the other ship, Tim, Cassie you guys take the POISEIDON."  
  
He was met with a simultaneous nod from the two figures before they turned and disappeared under the dark blanket of the night. Tilting his head he gave a sidelong glance at his father, "Think you can whistle up the Batplane?"  
  
"It's already here." Was the stiff reply. Looking out into the murky darkness of the harbor he did indeed see the winglights of the Batplane, waiting paitently at the end of the dock.  
  
"Then let's fly."  
  
* *  
*  
  
The black ocean waves lapped gently around the boat. The only thing penetrating the darkness was the glow of a cigarette. Taking a deep drag the man steadied himself alongside the railing. The kid was stashed down below, last time Angie checked at least and they were only a few hours away from port.  
  
A soft nicker caught his attention and he turned his head against the wind, staring coldly at the closed wooden door, of a modified storage room. "Shut up you damned beast." Were the whispered words that left his lips.  
  
The sailor shook his head. Hauling stolen cargo across the Atlantic to fence off in the seaports of the Mediterranean was his life's career. Stealing children was quite another thing altogether. It had taken some high end persuading on the part of his client, as well as a rather hefty check, but in the end he had agreed to deliver the appointed target at a specified location of his choosing within 2 days, for an undisclosed sum.  
  
As for the horse? The prize winning racehorse was just being returned to his original owners. Another piece of cargo to him.  
  
There was another snort, this time a little agitated. There was a sudden shout from the front of the boat, joined by an answering yell. The man took one last breath of smoke, then flicked the butt over the edge into the water below. Turning he stalked off to the prow to find out what was going on, he never noticed the small figure crouched on the other side of the storage room. 


End file.
